


Tumbleweed Bonds

by sperrywink



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Numb3rs, The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Bonding, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2349527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink/pseuds/sperrywink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian goes to these mixers just to experience the calming atmosphere guides cultivate. After all these years he doesn't expect to bond. Is it no surprise then that he doesn't realize he has?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tumbleweed Bonds

Surprisingly, Ian didn’t hate the Guide-Sentinel mixers. Maybe it was because he didn’t expect much from them; just a chance to be around guides and immerse himself in that calming atmosphere for a couple hours. He didn’t expect to bond, not after all these years, and he didn’t expect (or want) to be the life of the party. 

He was more than happy to lurk in a corner, watching everyone with an amused air. And it wasn’t like no one approached him. Unfortunately it was usually the young, fearless ones who thought he was a tragic, romantic hero. He always easily diverted their thoughts and interest onto more suitable people. Never let it be said he was without some social graces.

So he didn’t hate the mixers. Sometimes he hated the need within him for a guide’s presence, but never for long. Being around guides felt too good to be angry about it. Besides he only came to these things about once a month or two, as work and the hunt allowed. So it wasn’t a crippling need, just an itch.

This was his first in Las Vegas. He didn’t just go to the ones in Quantico, he figured if he was traveling all over the country, he might as well get to know the faces of as many of his fellow Sentinels and the guides as much as possible. It had actually even helped on a case or two.

So as he cased the mixer, making note of faces and connections, he was a bit surprised to see a late-twenties or early-thirties guy coming towards him. This was definitely no dewy-eyed, hero-worshipping ingénue, but, wow, did he look good. Long legs, and an easy grin.

With a deprecating smile, the guy said, “Hey. You’re a new face.”

Ian nodded. “First time I’ve managed to get to Vegas.”

Holding out his hand for a handshake, the guy said, “Greg Sanders. I’m a CSI for the LVPD.”

“Ian Edgerton. FBI.” Ian shook his hand, and a tingle like a mild static shock traveled up his arm. 

Greg seemed to feel it too, saying “Huh,” before asking, “Are you new to the Las Vegas office, or just passing through?”

“Just passing through. I’m tracking some fugitives.”

“And you found time to hang here with us?” 

It was said with a small smile, so Ian didn’t take offense. “Trail went cold.”

Greg grimaced. “Bummer.”

“Yup.” Ian took a sip of his now watery drink and let silence descend. He never was one much for conversation. Greg didn’t seem to mind. He just relaxed against the wall next to Ian with a satisfied sigh.

Eventually Greg pointed out a couple who seemed to be bonding, telling Ian all about the girl who was apparently a regular at these mixers the way Greg was. This eventual led to them talking about the most dramatic connections they had seen over the years. The evening was more fun than Ian could remember one of these mixers going in a long time. Greg was a good storyteller, and had a good sense of humor that kept Ian entertained and helped him open up as well.

As midnight neared Ian started yawning, so he said, “I’m going to head out. Need to get an early start tomorrow.”

“No problem. Thanks for hanging with me. It was a good evening.”

Kind of surprised by his agreement, with a smile, Ian said, “It was.”

Greg saluted him with his bottle of beer, and Ian headed out to his third rate motel to get some sleep so he could go over what he knew about his current fugitives and hopefully pick up the trail again.

* * *

Ian caught that fugitive and three more before he found himself at Sentinel headquarters in Cascade, Washington for a check-up. Blair liked all unbonded sentinels to get checked every six months, a year at the most. Ian didn’t mind. Being around Blair was extra soothing. Still it had been a good eight months for him, so he knew Blair would be extra excited to see him.

He was in the lobby talking to Jim when Blair came out of his office. His phone call must be over. Blair looked up from his papers with a brief smile, but then did a double-take at Ian. Ian turned to look behind him, even though he knew there was nobody there. Blair just looked so shocked, and Ian couldn’t imagine it having to do anything with him.

Blair practically ran towards Ian, and both Ian and Jim tensed up. Blair started hissing at Ian even before he was close enough for regular conversation. “Why didn’t you tell me you bonded? We can’t help you adjust, if you don’t tell us these things! Plus, we need to update your status. You know this!”

Ian started going, “Whoa, whoa there, Doc, I don’t know what you're talking about.”

Finally reaching Ian and Jim, Blair let out an exasperated huff. “Pull the other one. It’s all over your aura.”

Stumped, Ian gave Jim a pleading look. He was kind of out of his depth here. Jim said, “Come on, Chief, let’s take Ian inside, and talk about this.”

He herded Ian and Blair into his office, and towards the seating area. Ian sat in the chair next to the couch, and leaned forward with his hands clasped between his knees. Once Blair was sitting on the couch, he looked Blair in the eye. “I honestly haven’t bonded with anyone. I can’t even remember the last time I met an unbonded guide. I’ve been too busy with work.”

Now Blair looked utterly baffled. “But your aura is so clearly bonded. I don’t understand.”

Jim asked, “How can you tell?”

“It’s clearer and more… settled. Sharper and defined. It happens to everyone when they bond, both guides and sentinels. The colors and shapes of auras are unique to individuals, but the composition of them tells definitive stories. I know a bonded aura when I see one. Nothing unusual happened at all since your last visit?”

Ian was already shaking his head negatively, when he stopped as the memory surfaced. Blair raised his eyebrow, and said, “You thought of something.”

“At the last mixer I was at, I spent it chatting with a CSI from the Las Vegas Police Department. I’m not often approached.”

Blair snorted. “Which is an argument for another day, you ornery bastard.”

Ian just smiled at him toothily.

Jim said, “So this CSI approached you, and you talked, anything else?”

“When we shook hands I felt a static shock. It was just a brief tingle, so I didn’t think much of it at the time. That’s the only unusual thing I can think of. It really was forgettable.”

Blair was staring at him with disbelief. “Only you could bond with just a tingle, and not even notice. I’m surprised the guide didn’t know anything was up either, though. They didn’t say anything?”

“No. He seemed as nonchalant as I was. He was in his late twenties or early thirties, and I got the impression he had given up on bonding too. I’m still doubting this whole bond thing, I gotta tell you.”

Blair went to Jim’s desk, and started his computer. “What was his name? We need to get him here.”

Ian felt like he was on an out-of-control train. “Whoa! Are you sure that’s necessary? I don’t want to disrupt his life for nothing.”

“Bonding isn’t nothing. He deserves to know, just like you do.” Ian looked to Jim for support, but Jim just shrugged and looked apologetic. Blair asked, “What’s his name? I have five guides in the LVPD.”

Knowing he would never win against Blair, Ian sighed and leaned his head back on the chair, slumping a bit. He said, “Greg something.”

Blair said, “Aha! Greg Sanders. Twenty-nine, and has been in the database since he was fifteen. I think you’re right. Most guides bond within the first five years. He’d probably given up just as you had. I’m surprised he still goes to the mixers.”

“He said he liked meeting new people.”

Blair quirked an eyebrow at him, and Ian defensively said, “We got along fine. I’m not the misanthrope you think I am.”

Blair laughed at him, but said, “I know you’re not. I just didn’t know you realized it.” Ian rolled his eyes at Blair, but this just made him laugh again. Blair continued, “I need to arrange a leave of absence for Mr. Sanders and get him here. See what is going on with your bond.”

Ian, still unnerved at the whole discussion, said, “Give me his number and let me give him a head’s up first. I don’t want him blindsided.”

Blair gave him a searching look, but then nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”

* * *

Ian settled into his room at the Complex, and fell onto his bed with a sigh. Bonded, what a trip. He still wasn’t sure he believed it, since he didn’t feel any different, but what did he know about bonding? He’d seen it happening before, and it came in all shapes and sizes, but there was usually some spark or change in the air that even outsiders could feel. Not just a little tingle. Maybe he just had a weak one, maybe he couldn’t develop a good one. He grimaced up at the ceiling. Blair would tell him to stop thinking negatively and just call Greg already. 

He checked the time, and it would be around seven in the evening in Las Vegas, so he took out his phone, and typed in the number Blair had written down for him.

“Sanders.”

“Hey. It’s Ian Edgerton from the FBI. We met at that mixer about six months ago.”

“Right, right, I remember.” He sounded perplexed, and Ian expected all sorts of questions like how did he get this number, and why was he calling, but Greg just asked, “What can I do for you?”

Sighing, Ian made another face at the ceiling. “It’s going to sound nuts, but Blair thinks we bonded.”

“Blair?”

“Yeah, you know, Sandburg? The Guide Director?”

“You call Director Sandburg, Blair?” Now Ian could hear Greg’s voice dripping with disbelief and maybe a little envy.

“We go way back. Jim’s the one who found me.”

“Let me guess, that would be Director Ellison, then?”

“Got it in one.”

Greg seemed to be a non-lateral thinker, because now he was finally asking, “So wait. Director Sandburg thinks we bonded? We just chatted.”

“That’s what I told him, but he says my aura changed. It now looks like a bonded aura, and I haven’t touched another guide since we shook hands.”

Greg said, “That electric shock, really?” which pointed to Ian not being alone in feeling something when they touched. Maybe they had bonded. Well, damn.

Ian said, “Apparently.”

Ian suddenly heard voices calling Greg in the distance over the phone, and Greg yelling that he would be right there. Greg said, “So I’m at work, and I need to go. What happens now?”

“Blair’s already calling your supervisors for a leave of absence. He wants you to come to the Complex, stat.”

“Catherine’s not going to be happy about that. We’re already short-staffed.” Although his words indicated resignation, Greg actually sounded excited. Ian wondered what was up with that.

“Can’t be helped. Blair always gets his way.”

“Sounds like a character.”

Someone called for Greg again, so all Ian said was, “You’ll see,” and let Greg rush him off the phone.

* * *

Two days later, Greg was due in Cascade. Ian spent most of the intervening time working out with Jim, and releasing pent up energy by running and tracking all over the complex’s thousands of acres. It helped him stay calm as he, Jim, and Blair waited for Greg in Blair’s office. He didn’t know why he was nervous, except he wasn’t sure if he wanted Blair to be right or wrong. A bond would be amazing, but at the same time, how amazing could it be when both he and Greg had barely noticed?

Blair’s assistant escorted Greg into the office, and Ian looked him over carefully. He wore dress slacks, and a lilac button-down shirt. Showed he was trying to be formal, but still have character to Ian’s mind. His smile was nervous, especially when Blair gripped his hand with both of his, and wouldn’t let go. As Greg looked around at Jim and Ian in concern, Blair said, “Oh, yeah, you guys definitely bonded.”

That caught all of their attention, and Greg asked, “You can tell just like that?”

“Yup. Your auras are syncing even as I speak.”

Ian and Greg exchanged glances, and Greg was the first to turn away with a blush staining his cheeks. He said, “It’s kind of mind-blowing.”

Blair grinned at him, and said, “But exciting, yes?”

Greg returned his grin, transforming his face into one of beauty. Ian’s breath caught, but Jim was the only one who noticed, and he luckily just nudged Ian, and left it at that. Greg was saying, “Well, yeah. But it raises so many questions! Like why didn’t we notice? Is it a weak bond? What am I going to do about my job? His job? All that stuff.”

Finally releasing Greg’s hand, Blair patted it one last time. “It’s definitely not a weak bond. I think you guys are just so competent on your own, both of you, that you took the bond in stride. You weren’t thrown the way most people are. Or it might be your maturity levels. Bonds typically happen to kids in their twenties at the latest, and you know how volatile that age is.”

Greg grimaced. “Oh, yeah, don’t I know it.”

Jim chuckled, which made Ian huff out a laugh too. Greg turned to them, and said to Jim. “Sorry, we haven’t been introduced. I’m Greg.” He held out his hand.

Jim shook it, saying, “Jim. It’s great to meet you. We’ve been waiting for Ian to find someone for years now.” Ian elbowed Jim, but Jim just threw his arm around Ian’s shoulder and pulled him close. Ian was thrown by the affection, since Jim was usually as reticent as he was, so he just let his body rest there.

Ian asked, “So what now?”

Blair grinned, and said, “Now you reaffirm the bond. Kissing is nice for that.”

Ian said, “We’ve barely met; don’t you think that’s a little soon?”

Simultaneously, Greg was saying, “Hey, I’m not that kind of boy!” They grinned at each other, and Greg even waggled his eyebrows at Ian, making him chuckle.

Blair was saying, “Feel free to treat Greg to dinner first, but physical contact is the way to go. Trust me. The bond will take it from there.”

* * *

So they went to a nearby restaurant for a quiet dinner. It was a small Italian place, with candles on the tables, and quiet violin music to cover the murmur of voices.

After their orders were taken, along with their menus, Ian decided to cut to the chase for some of their issues. “So, do you want to stay in Vegas?”

Greg heaved a big sigh. Toying with his water glass, he said, “I don’t know. If Grissom was still there, I might, but he’s gone, and I’m not as close to the others as I had been. It feels like they still see me as a goofy kid instead of a competent coworker, particularly since Ray came aboard. Anyway, I don’t really want to talk about that yet. What about you? I’m not sure what you do for the FBI, except track fugitives.”

Ian allowed the subject change. He could tell it hit Greg deeply, and Greg was right they weren’t yet close enough for that kind of emotional discussion. He said, “That’s one of my main jobs. I also teach sniper school at Quantico.”

“So is that where you are based? Quantico?”

“Yeah. Does that… is that a possibility for you?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Not really. I grew up in San Gabriel. I’ve always been a West Coast kind of guy. Every time I go East I feel like I am totally out of place. I lived in New York for a while, but it was torture. Too frenetic and stuffy.”

Ian hummed as he considered their life together. It sounded like neither of their current lives would work for both of them. He moved his water glass so his plate of food could be placed in front of him by their waiter, and once the waiter left, said, “Well, Quantico is nothing like New York, so not frenetic at all, but it can be stuffy, I will grant you that. I actually like the West much more too. I grew up in Arizona. I like wide open spaces. The East Coast is a little too crowded for my peace of mind. I really only spend maybe a third of my time there. I’m mostly traveling.”

Now it was Greg’s turn to sigh. “I don’t know if that works for me either. I like going new places, but I’m kind of a city boy. I don’t know what I would do if I was following you around the country. It doesn’t exactly sound like you’ve needed a guide all these years.”

Taking a chance, Ian reached across the table and touched Greg’s hand. That same static shock traveled up his arm, but he ignored it easily. “Hey, need and want are two different things. We’re here to figure out what works for both of us. Maybe we both have to change, and I’m okay with that. I’ve been doing this for twenty years. Even I get tired of it.”

“Are you sure? It sounds like what you do is important.”

“But not any more important than what you do.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t sound like there are many people who can do what you do. I’m a dime a dozen.”

“I’m sure that isn’t true, but ignoring that for a second, like I said, there are other options for me besides Fugitive Recovery, and I’m open to them.”

Greg finally nodded, and turned his hand to squeeze Ian’s before letting go. Ian moved his hand back, and started on his pasta. “Such as? I’m open to suggestions here.”

Getting a burst of inspiration, Ian said, “Well, I have some friends in the L.A. office. I wouldn’t mind a transfer there. Getting out of L.A. to the countryside or mountains should be easy enough when I’m tired of the city life. Does that sound good to you? I don’t know if you want to join the FBI to be with me, or maybe go to the crime lab for the PD?”

Greg thought about it for a bit. Ian could see his thoughts flicker across his face, and he didn’t rush him. Greg said, “While it is a little too close to my mother for my comfort, it might be the best solution. I don’t know how I would do in the FBI. That might be a decision for later.”

Ian said, “Fair enough. How’s your dinner?” He figured that was enough serious talk for a first date, or whatever the hell they were on.

Greg rhapsodized about his cream sauce and asparagus, and then they were discussing miscellaneous topics for the rest of dinner and the drive home.

* * *

Once back at the complex, they had rooms next to each other. Ian knew Blair had arranged it that way. They stopped outside Greg’s door, and an awkward silence descended as their gazes shifted and caught each other, but never for long. Finally, Ian said, “Okay. I trust Blair, how do you feel about it?”

Greg blushed, and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I’m game, for the most part. It just feels more momentous than a first kiss should. What if nothing happens, despite what Blair says? I don’t know what to do with those feelings.”

Ian crowded Greg against the door jam, stopping just before their bodies were flush. “Let them go. Especially since there is only one way to find out.”

Greg heaved a huge breath, and then looked Ian in the eye. “Okay. Fingers crossed, right?”

Ian just smiled back as gently as he could, and then bracing his hands on the wall over Greg’s head, leaned in for a kiss. And then holy shit, was Blair right. The second their lips touched, it was like a tsunami of elation washed over Ian. He felt like he was on a precipice of orgasm, but it was better than that, since as the kiss deepened and deepened he could still ride the wave without falling over into ecstasy. He groaned, and his hands moved to pull at Greg’s neck to hold him close. Greg’s hands were gripping his hips tight, and small whimpering moans were escaping his throat.

Eventually Ian eased back from the edge he was riding, and broke the kiss. Greg was panting and his eyes were closed as he rested his head back on the door. He finally whispered, “Oh my god, that is definitely a bond. I feel like I can fly away, but you’re holding my string, but in the best possible way.”

“So we’re doing this?”

“Yes! Damn, just yes. We are doing this for the rest of our lives, if I have any say in it.” Greg then twisted to open his door, and tugged one of Ian’s hands so that he would follow Greg into his room. “I want to kiss you forever. Come on in.”

Ian laughed, feeling more carefree than he had felt in a long time. He followed Greg into the room, and when Greg fell backwards on the bed and made grabby hands at him, he laughed again, but followed suit. As he settled between Greg’s legs, Greg pulled him into another earth-shattering kiss.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Blair asked, “Mind if I join you?” Both Ian and Greg demurred, so Blair sat down with his coffee. He beamed at them after a couple seconds, saying, “Now that is a happy, strong bond.”

Greg leaned forward eagerly. “You can actually see a change?”

“Of course. The syncing is pretty much snapped into place. I can see ripples going from one of you to the other. It’s good to see. Auras tell me so much about what is going on with you guys. I don’t know what I would do without them leading the way.”

“I wish I could see them.”

“With a little practice and meditation, you might be able to. We can start while you’re here. I’m sorry you were never invited to the Complex before. We try to keep tabs on everybody, but since we have been playing catch-up with bonded pairs for so many years, the single folks tend to slip through the cracks.” 

Blair looked honestly distraught over this, so Ian was happy when Greg immediately said he didn’t mind. “No worries. I don’t know if I would have been receptive when I was younger. I thought my life would go differently then.”

Blair smiled commiseratingly. “I get that. I thought I would be exploring cultures and traveling the world in search of sentinels. Who knew I would find what I needed in my own backyard?”

They all chuckled, and then silence descended for a second as Ian’s and Greg’s breakfasts were served. After the waitress left, Ian asked, “How do you know it’s a strong bond?”

Blair hummed and his eyes unfocused as he scrutinized Ian’s aura. He said, “It’s hard to describe. Your aura is still mostly about you, but now there are strands of Greg wound in. Not just your emotions about Greg, but Greg’s returning emotions. And those strands are overwhelmingly positive. There’s no hesitation between the two of you, which makes the bond strong.”

As they finished up their meals, Blair said, “I would like to have some individual and joint sessions with both of you. Besides the physical details of what you’ll do and where you’ll live, which I can help organize as Director, I have some meditations and skills that will help maintain your bond. Basic couples therapy stuff, plus a little mysticism.” He was grinning, but Ian could see the seriousness underneath.

Ian said, “We’ve already discussed both of us changing our jobs. We know our pasts jobs aren’t really compatible. As for place, L.A. is looking like the front-runner.”

“Good! I’m glad you guys are already discussing these things and can come to some compromises. It’ll make my job easier.”

Greg said, “I’m just not sure what I’ll be doing. I’m not really agent material, and I don’t know how much Ian needs a guide around for his job.”

As Ian was saying, “Not much,” Blair was waving him off, and adding his two cents in. 

Blair said, “Guides don’t have to be agents. While it is useful to go through training, particularly for firearms, it isn’t mandatory that they carry. You’ll find that we have made deals with all the major agencies about sentinels and guides that offers us a lot of leeway. I’m sure we can work it out.”

Greg looked more relaxed about it, which Ian was glad to see. And while he didn’t think he needed a guide all that much, he _wanted_ Greg’s presence deeply. Plus he knew how much stronger Jim was with Blair touching him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Greg would help his senses the same way.

The next couple of weeks of training and meditation flew by for Ian. It was easy enough to get transferred to the L.A. office, once he agreed to still teach sniper school once a year, and Greg joined the FBI as Ian’s guide, just as Blair said he could. He would have to go through Quantico for training, but that would give Ian time to close out his East Coast home, and have everything moved to L.A. 

More importantly it felt good to not be alone, which surprised Ian. He had always been a loner by trade and inclination, so how he could suddenly find it preferable to be in Greg’s company was a mystery. He wasn’t sure if it was the bond, Greg, or just the novelty of somebody who wanted to be with him _because_ of his quirks.

He just hoped Greg felt the same way about him.

* * *

Ian was not put on Don Eppes team, which he was kind of glad about. They were friendly, but he could see that friendship straining if they had to work together all the time. It wasn’t that Ian would challenge Don’s authority, but he could see them butting heads over morality and direction of cases.

Still, he was happily surprised when Don invited him and Greg over to Charlie’s and Alan’s house for the game. He and Greg had only moved a week or so ago, and they hadn’t started at the FBI in L.A. yet. He hadn’t even known that Don knew he was in town, or that he now had a guide. Although he guessed gossip traveled fast, and his getting a guide was a startling piece of gossip. He knew most people thought he was untouchable, and figured he would never get a guide.

They pulled up to the Eppes household, and went to the door with a six pack of craft beer as their contribution to the festivities. Charlie opened the door, and said, “Agent Edgerton, glad you could make it.”

Ian nodded, and with a smile, introduced Greg. Alan was just coming out of the kitchen, so he took the beer from Greg, and said, “Here let me put that in the fridge.”

Alan came back, handing both Ian and Greg a beer. He said, “The game’s through there. Don’s already here.”

“Thanks. Mr. Eppes, this is my guide, Greg Sanders.”

Distractedly, Alan held out his hand for a handshake, which Greg did. He said, “Now, why do I know that name?”

Still smiling, Greg playfully said, “No idea, unless you read my book.”

Alan smiled wide at Greg, and pointed excitedly at him. “Las Vegas: The Untold Stories! I have read your book! It was fascinating. Stan loaned it to me. Come with me. We have to go call Stan. He’d love to meet you too.” With that, Alan grabbed Greg’s arm and began pulling him towards the dining room. Greg threw Ian a bemused smile over his shoulder, but Ian just raised his bottle, and laughed back at him.

Charlie said, “Well, that was unexpected.”

Ian laughed again. “It really was.” They heard Don shouting at the TV in the living room, and following Charlie, Ian went to check it out.

When half-time rolled around, Ian shifted his focus to the dining room, where he could see Greg holding court with Alan and his friend Stan. His arms were waving as he weaved some tale, and the three of them looked happy as clams. He was kind of relieved to see Greg having such a good time. He had taken Greg away from his friends, and dropped him alone in L.A., except for Ian. Ian was used to being alone; Greg wasn’t.

Once the game was over, Ian went and leaned against the entryway to the dining room. Greg was now listening intently to Alan, and he looked entranced by the conversation. Ian coughed to get their attention. Greg beamed at him, and asked, “Is the game over? Who won?”

“The Raiders.”

“Good. I hate New York.” He began his goodbyes to Alan and Stan, who were sorry to see him go. But Greg was a perceptive guy, and Ian knew Greg knew that Ian had had enough socializing. So they said their goodbyes to Charlie and Don, and walked to the car in the gloom of twilight.

Greg was talking about Alan and Stan’s jobs as city planners for L.A., and Ian could already see his head filling with the stories he could tell. He had a good idea of what Greg’s next book would be about. It was cute, and made Ian pull Greg into his arms once they reached the car, but before Greg could get in. He asked, “So you had a good time?”

“I had a great time. You have good friends.”

Murmuring against Greg’s lips, Ian said, “Kind of more friendly acquaintances, but yeah, I like them too.”

Greg breathily said, “Maybe they can become friends,” and then he kissed Ian passionately. Since that was what Ian had been waiting for, he responded immediately. It was a good, if slightly restrained kiss, and reaffirmed the connection that Ian could feel getting stronger every day. As Greg had said, it was like flying, but knowing there was a cushion if you fell.

* * *

Ian was surprised when a couple weeks later, Charlie called and asked him to coffee. Curious, he agreed to meet at a café halfway between CalSci and the FBI building. When he arrived and got his coffee, he could see Charlie already ensconced at a table in the back. He made his way there, and said, “Hey, Professor,” as he sat down.

Charlie startled, but smiled easily enough. “Agent Edgerton. Thanks for coming.”

“No problem. I must admit to being curious.”

Charlie looked down at his coffee cup and fiddled with it. “Yeah, I bet.” He hesitated there, but Ian let the silence lengthen. He could wait for Charlie to collect his thoughts. Finally Charlie continued, “I wanted to know how you did it.”

“Did what?”

Now finally Charlie looked at him. Ian could see the confusion and fear on his face. “Changed your life around for Greg. One minute you’re a rolling stone gathering no moss, and the next you're settling down with Greg. Changing everything. Didn’t it frighten you?”

Ian took a second to drink some coffee and think about his words. “Not exactly. I knew I was gaining more than I was losing. Plus, remember we’re a sentinel and guide. I can feel my connection to Greg. I know I made the right decision if we’re both satisfied, which we are.”

“But how did you know?”

“Funny story, I didn’t at first,” Ian said, explaining how neither he nor Greg had recognized the bond, and how it took Blair to bring them together.

Charlie grimaced. “Auras? Really?”

Ian laughed, and said, “You can’t deny he was right.”

“I guess.” Charlie shook off that line of thought, and Ian could see he wasn’t finished. “As you can probably guess this is about Amita and I.”

Ian nodded, and made a continue gesture.

Charlie said, “She wants me to move to London with her, and get married, and I don’t know if it’s the right choice. I’m settled here. My life is here.”

“Which is more important, being settled or Amita?” Ian held up a staying hand as Charlie bristled. “I don’t mean that in a negative way. I must admit, even a couple years ago, I don’t know if my choice to change my life would have been as simple as it was now. So where are you in your life, Dr. Eppes? Settled in and happy, or willing to risk it all for more?”

“But how do you know it will be more?”

“I don’t know if it will be for you, but it was for me. I’m more grounded, more tethered than ever before, but contrarily also more… free. Greg gives me courage. What does Amita give you?”

Charlie hummed with a thoughtful look on his face. “I see what you’re saying. I’m at a tipping point. Either I chose my current life, and risk losing Amita and all she brings to my life, or I change with her and gain a new direction. The question is, which direction looks better to me? The one with Amita, or the one with no change?”

Ian raised his coffee cup in an acknowledging toast, and took a sip, draining it. “Exactly. You think on it, Professor. I need to get back to work.” Charlie waved carelessly at Ian, already lost in thought, and Ian smiled. He had a feeling which way the tide would fall on this one. He wondered when he became a romantic, and then huffed. He knew exactly when he became a romantic. It was when he kissed Greg for the first time.

He thought about it on the ride back, and finally accepted that he didn’t care if he was becoming a sap, and losing his edge. He was too damn happy with Greg to have any regrets.


End file.
